Strive
by succedissidor
Summary: the true story of Percy Weasley. hey, he deserves the chance to tell his side...
1. but now

And so I'm following a teaser with another teaser. I'll honestly honestly try to get this thing going, and I'll try to write it in colloquial English rather than the unfortunately formal English that always seems to come out when there's a keyboard under my hands. See? I'm doing better already. That sentence was previously: _I shall honestly, honestly attempt to get this story underway, and I'll do my best to write in colloquial English rather than the overtly pedantic style to which I revert when typing. _

In closing, I still don't own anything. Well, except a gigantic bag of Tootsie Rolls my roommate gave me. WARNING: BOOK 6 SPOILERS although if you don't know what happens by now, you really can't blame me.

**Strive**

Chapter One- but now…

_We feel that we are paper, choking on you nightly_

_They tell me "Son, we want you, be elusive, but don't walk far"_

_For we're breaking in the new boys, deceive your next of kin_

_For you're dancing where the dogs decay_

-oooo-

Percy closed his eyes. All of the planning, all of the years of training and hard work and sacrifice. For what? What use was it now? Sure, he'd known it could come to this- that it would come to this, eventually. Still, it would have been nice to have some time to prepare. A warning- they owed him that much, at the very least.

Apparently, they still were not convinced as to which side he was truly loyal.

And now, all bets were off. He was screwed, well and truly screwed, and there wasn't much that could be done. Caught in the middle of a war- it was gaining momentum every damn day and here he was standing in the front line with a target on his chest.

God damn it all. That bastard, that arrogant bastard! How could he have made such a move- how could such a thing have happened when they had made such failsafe plans! And there was a plan, there was a setup, there were reasons and objectives and a certain amount of symbolism; and a time, and place, and that bastard had ruined it.

Snape had killed Dumbledore.

Percy closed his eyes. This was going to mean some serious strategizing- new plans to be made, new contacts to establish, new alibis, almost certain death… bloody hell.

The door clicked softly before swinging open.

"So?"

"'So' what? I mean, where do I even start? Who can we even trust anymore? Do you realize-?"

"Weasley, calm yourself. We shall discuss this in due time."

"Alright. Alright, yeah. It's just- this is so sudden. Dumbledore-"

"I would rather not discuss that at present."

"I know, Snape. I know."

-oooo-

A/N- Sorry about the notes being longer than the story. This will be the first chapter of my revised Percy fic. Now really. How many people are lucky enough to have their fic- one that is attempting to remain in cannon- reinforced by a new book, rather than wrecked? Of course I didn't write this within my set deadline, because I suck and I'm lazy and college is a lot of work; and OoTP came out, and I thought, "Oh noes! My Percy fic!" And upon finishing the aforementioned book, I thought, "Hooray! My Percy Fic!" Now I'm finally sure exactly how Snape fits in, which was a bit iffy before. And we're off!


	2. so sad you seem tonight

I really have to disclaim this chapter, because there is extensive use of straight-from-the-book dialogue. It's not plagiarism, right? I would cite it where I use it but that would really disrupt the flow of the story- suffice to say that it is from pages 257-268 of the Scholastic paperback "Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban" by JK Rowling. I do not own the rights to the book, although I do own a rather dog-eared copy. I mentioned earlier that I'm writing this on a terribly self-indulgent whim- because I wanted to write two scenes. This is one of them.

**Strive**

Chapter Two: so sad you seem tonight…

_If you don't believe me, sell your soul_

_If you don't get into it, no one will_

-oooo-

_"Think carefully, Percy. This is not a choice lightly made. Your training will not be in vain, no matter which path you choose. You have my utmost confidence."_

_"It's hard, Weasley. It's unbelievably hard. You will never reclaim all that you give up. Are you willing never to be loved? Trusted? To be condemned? It's hard, Weasley. But my choice was my own, as is yours. You have the ability. Do you have the strength?"_

_"Enough. He must come to his own conclusions. Percy, I will wait for your answer. You have until the end of the year. It is a heavy burden for one so young, but it is the young on whom our future depends."_

A Firebolt. A _Firebolt_. Percy could only dream of such a thing- and Potter had one. Penelope wouldn't shut up about it- all morning she'd stolen glances at it, over Percy's shoulder, and the passion in her eyes was stronger than he'd ever seen before. He knew she didn't _love_ him, hell they were only seventeen and it would have frightened him if she'd _loved_ him. Still, it was a bit insulting that he was less interesting than a broom. Even if it was a really nice broom. One Percy would give anything to ride, just once, just… no. He hadn't been on a broom without an enormous sense of guilt since that day, when he was too distracted, too far away… He didn't want to think about that, though. He snapped out of his thought quickly when he heard his name.

"Percy? You fancy a wager?" Penelope. He looked at her, one eyebrow cocked. "On the game. Even with Potter's broom we're still going to flatten you. Ten Galleons sounds fair. We're agreed then?" Percy nodded, quite startled by the girl. He really was going to have to end their 'relationship' soon, before she drove him insane. "Come on, Percy. Let's go have a look." He nodded mutely and put on his game face. Collected, in control, most definitely not wanting to throttle his girlfriend… Wait. Did he just bet ten Galleons?

"Harry? May I… May I hold it?" Penny held her hand out tentatively toward the broom. Percy'd never seen her so hesitant before. Harry grinned and nodded, and Penny's hand curled around the polished ash handle, her fingers brushing down through the birch twigs. Percy flinched at the almost sexual reverence she was showing.

"Now, now, Penny, no sabotage!" Forcing a laugh, he looked over the rest of the Gryffindor team, who were all grinning excitedly and whispering to each other. "Penelope and I have a bet on. Ten Galleons on the outcome of the match!" God, he hoped Gryffindor won. He looked down at Harry, and pulled a face. "Harry- make sure you win. I haven't got ten Galleons." Penelope had stalked off, and was shooting meaningful looks at him. "Yes, I'm coming, Penny!" He sighed deeply and followed her to the Ravenclaw table to eat.

The game was stellar- everyone seemed to be in top form, and Oliver was playing with a sort of desperate fury that made him thrilling to watch. It was his last year, and he so wanted to win the Quidditch cup. Percy was rather anxious himself, as Gryffindor had been screwed out of the cup both previous years. There had been a minor interruption toward the end of the game- apparently some Slytherins dressed as Dementors, but Harry'd come through and caught the Snitch. Hah. Gryffindor had crushed Ravenclaw, and that arrogant bitch- ahem, his girlfriend- owed him. "Well done, Harry. Ten Galleons to me! Must find Penelope, excuse me-"

The party raging in the common room echoed through the halls. Percy sat on his bed, absently playing with the money he'd gloated out of Penny earlier. She'd been mad, insisting that she was just joking, but Percy knew he damn well _he_ would have had to pay up. He was a touch put out by the good time everyone was having. It would be easy enough to go downstairs and join them, but it would be uncomfortable. When he'd come in earlier, he'd clearly heard "Head Boy" hiss through the crowd. Everyone would shy away from him, especially his brothers, who had undoubtedly snuck into Hogsmeade. (He couldn't figure out how they did it, but he knew they did. It was obviously safe, so he let it be, pretended he didn't know.) He lay back on the bed, staring vacantly at the ceiling, running his fingers over the Head Boy badge pinned to his pajamas. It made him feel different, needed. He knew the truth. He wondered when, exactly, everyone started hating him.

Oliver rolled up to the room, mildly sloshed from one too many butterbeers, at about one in the morning. He grinned in the dark, knowing his quiet roommate was still awake. "You should have come down, Perce. It was good fun." Percy didn't answer, just nodded. Oliver stood a moment, debating over whether he was sober enough to start a real conversation. The world twisted a bit, and he decided that perhaps now was not the best time. In the morning, then. "Goodnight, Perce." He fell into bed and was out before Percy could answer.

"'Night, Oliver." He swung his feet over the side of the bed, pulled on his robe, and slipped out into the hallway.

His fingers were freezing, but he managed to fumble the badge off of his nightshirt. He glared hatefully at it. A label, nothing more, just something else that people could see instead of seeing him. He was just Percy, not as cool as Bill, or talented as Charlie, or popular as the twins… He was the top student in his year, the superior prefect, the cold-as-ice Head Boy, and he was sick of it. He closed his eyes and threw the badge as hard as he could.

And then he grabbed for his wand in blind panic and screamed out the first spell he'd ever learned, "Wingardium Leviosa!" and retrieved the badge. He might resent it, but without it, what was he? Besides, he'd grown rather attached to it. He didn't have many friends. Gripping it tightly, he picked up his wand and took a last long look at the heavens. He sighed, and decided to go back to his room. The Head Boy shouldn't be on top of the astronomy tower in the middle of the night, anyway.

Percy simply looked at Sirius Black. The man was momentarily frozen in surprise, and Percy clearly had the advantage over him. He could see the dull moonlit glint of a knife in the older man's hand, but he was a seventh level wizarding student with honors, and he was grasping a wand in his left hand, the right still gripping his badge. Besides that, the man looked painfully thin and more than a little disoriented.

It could have only been a moment, but time had apparently stopped, or at least decided to crawl so slowly it was barely moving. But in those few moments Percy was able to take in every minute detail. He knew quite a lot about Sirius Black. He'd been sent to Azkaban when Percy was only five, but he'd remained a predominant subject of conversation for years afterward. He'd been wickedly intelligent, and despite the fact that he was not the most assiduous student he'd gone on to become an Auror. He'd posed as James Potter's best friend throughout their years at Hogwarts, and beyond. Many people, Molly and Arthur Weasley included, had been disbelieving about his betrayal of the Potters, but the evidence of his attack on Peter Pettigrew had been undeniable. Everything Sirius Black had been until that moment was forgotten. He was simply a criminal, a killer, and vicious gossip re-wrote his history until even Percy's own mother really believed he was part of Voldemort's inner circle.

All of this blurred through Percy's head at lightspeed, and he looked again at the man. There was an unbelievable weariness etched across his face, his body crumbling under the weight of twelve years of imprisonment, a look of desperation and outrage totally drowning under a sea of resignation- he was trapped by someone obviously stronger and better equipped. He was labeled, trapped, unable to move because the world said 'this is what you are' and slammed him in a cell, everyone shied away from him, everywhere he went he would try not to hear the hissing whispers, "Sirius Black!" and the averted eyes, the hate and fear…

And Percy lowered his wand, and stepped aside, and let Sirius Black pass.

It could have been minutes or hours or a heartbeat. Percy stood, silent, freezing, bathed in cold moonlight in the middle of the corridor. He was too worked up, and now he was hallucinating. He'd just shaken himself out of his daze when he heard a scream. He bolted toward the source, toward the Gryffindor common room, and shouted the password at Cadogan. In the commotion and rush of students milling around the messy common room, he missed the flash of black fur that slipped past him, out into the hall. He realized that he was still holding his badge, and he hurriedly pinned it on while allowing the Head Boy to take over, calling out "Everyone back upstairs!"

"Perce-" Ron looked up at him, eyes dilated in terror. "Sirius Black! In our dormitory! With a Knife! Woke me up!"

Percy felt the blood fall from his face. Oh God Oh God Oh God. No. "Nonsense!" He choked. It was a dream it was a hallucination it wasn't real… "You had too much to eat, Ron-" He faltered as he realized… "Had a nightmare-" He felt sick, faint, dizzy…

Ron shook his head desperately. "I'm telling you-"

"Now, really, enough's enough!" McGonangall swept into the room, enraged. "I am delighted that Gryffindor won the match, but this is getting ridiculous! Percy, I expected better of you!"

Percy gathered up his strength, put aside his guilt and worry for a moment, and faced his head of house. "I certainly didn't authorize this, Professor! I was just telling them all to get back to bed! My brother Ron here had a nightmare-"

Ron leapt out of the chair he'd fallen into. "IT WAN'T A NIGHTMARE! PROFESSOR, I WOKE UP, AND SIRIUS BLACK WAS STANDING OVER ME, HOLDING A KNIFE! "

McGonangall wasn't convinced. Ron demanded that Cadogan be asked. McGonangall asked. "Certainly good lady!" The Knight looked enormously proud of himself. Percy barely registered what was said. It was real. He was real- for the third time, Percy had failed to protect one of his siblings. He could feel the enormous heat of guilt buzzing inside his head, the crush of insufficiency, and he knew. He had an answer for Dumbledore. He now had no choice.

Percy felt a cool hand on his arm. Oliver. He blinked several times- the hallway was empty now, except for the two of them, and Cadogan (looking slightly abashed) was waiting for them to go back into the common room. Oliver led him quietly up the stairs, just as he'd done last year, upset by the despair in the redhead's eyes. He wondered if it was just because his brother was attacked, or if there was more behind it. He supposed he would find out sooner or later. He shook his head, tsking over Percy's right hand, which was covered in drying blood.

Percy looked down at it, vaguely surprised to see the cuts in his palm, knowing that they came from gripping his badge too tightly. He let Oliver fuss over it, and slid back into his own thoughts. He had an answer for Dumbledore.

_-oooo-_

Okay. Well, that was nothing but self indulgence. Oh yeah. But, if anyone is out there, I hope you liked it. I am definitely going with a non-chronological storyline. Please, though, if anyone has any questions or suggestions or requests, let me know. I'd really appreciate them…


End file.
